


Freefall

by Mollish



Series: Freefall [1]
Category: Freefall - Fandom
Genre: Fantasy, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollish/pseuds/Mollish
Summary: In a world quite different from our own, there are 4 distinct humanoid subgroups: the ram-like, fire-worshipping Kulungu, the silent feline Karakali, the nomadic avian Kipanga, and lastly, the ferocious and yet technologically advanced reptilian Nyoka. Each tribe has been warring for centuries - a feud so old that no one recalls how it started. Tension is high, habitable territory is scarce, and allies are few.A chance meeting between two young members of different races makes them question where their loyalties lie, and if it is possible to bring about a much-needed change.Freefall Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/mollish~/playlist/7BxOyruyrJkkvszswoDhjA





	1. Chapter 1

The morning was an unusually cold one for the last day of summer. The sun itself was brimming low, casting a range of dancing shadows upward between the densely clustered, thick mahogany tree trunks crowded around the mountainside. Rays of golden sunlight were beginning to break through the fog which swirled around the base of the trees, causing the frost on the moss and small rocks to give off an eerie glimmer. It was almost silent, with the occasional exception of a light birdsong somewhere in the branches far above, or the scuttle of a small critter in the brush below.

Darius loved coming to this part of the forest at dawn. It granted him an hour or two of blissful peace, where he could just sit and quietly observe the flora and fauna around him without being harassed by his siblings and peers. Even if his brother and sisters wandered this way, Darius knew he could easily avoid them simply by climbing to his favorite niche, a small space between several boulders, accessed by hoofing up a series of smaller rocks (constant practice made not slipping on the slick moss a little easier) and inching between two particularly large tree branches. From this vantage point, Darius could look out into the forest, and even over some of the trees further away as the ground sloped downward. On most days, he felt like he could sit there forever and watch as the sun crawled higher across the sky, casting ever-lengthening shadows over him and him alone.

Alas, today was not one of those days.

"Darius!" he heard his sister yell in their familial tongue - Kulunguan - from a little less than a mile away.

"Darius! Where are you? You're going to be late for the Ceremony of Embers! Come and get your horns polished!"

Her voice was shrill, and Darius exhaled sharply as he saw some startled songbirds flutter out of a nearby tree. He absentmindedly brushed some of his dark hair out of his eyes and took one last look at his precious alcove - his sanctum - before jumping down to the ground below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About fifteen minutes later, Darius was back at the village, sitting in a vat of river water that had been heated for a short time by a nearby fire. He sat crossed-legged, stomach-deep in the lukewarm water, pouting as his sister pulled a comb fashioned from pinecone scales and small tree branches through his thick, dark hair.

"Lyall, you're pulling my hair," Darius said flatly, then winced as he felt Lyall pull even harder.

Lyall was the eldest of the four of them, and the sheer length of her great horns were not shy in showing it. They were a dark tan, and curled up and back like those of an ibex (inherited from their mother), and were painted with twenty-two blood red marks - each one representing a year of her life. Her skin was tanned, despite living in the mountains, primarily due to how much physical exertion she forced herself to do every day in the sun. Because of this, her long, dark auburn hair was normally tied up in a messy braid, but today it was hanging down around her shoulders like some majestic, shiny fur coat.

Darius' second-oldest sister, Ailith, was a head or so shorter than Lyall, but just as temperamental and bossy. Her horns were also tall and long, like her sister's, but were slightly shorter in comparison and sported only 19 marks. These marks, as she had requested, were not blood-red, but sky blue, like that of her eyes. Her hair was short and messy, and she always had to brush it out of her face to stop it from blinding her completely. Currently, she was standing at the opposite end of the tent from Darius and Lyall, watching them with a sly smile.

Their last sibling, Ramsey, was Ailith's twin, although they shared very little in appearance. His face was perpetually hard, and his thick brows were almost constantly slanted downward in a disapproving frown. His hair was raven-black, like his father's, and long enough to be tied back behind his horns as well as to have a small braid hang down in front of his large, dark ears. Ramsey was as tall as Lyall, and his horns were even longer and thicker, despite showing only as many paint marks as Ailith, but in the same red paint as his eldest sister. Darius didn't know where he was - probably finishing his hunt for the ceremonial sacrifice.

"There - now at least your hair is somewhat presentable. Now go polish your horns - I sure as hell am not going to do that for you," spat Lyall before she turned and left the tent. Ailith turned to follow her out, snickering as she went.

Darius was glad to be left alone again. He hated his siblings. And the rest of the Kulungu.

He rose up out of the water (now barely warm at all), and walked over to the corner of the tent where there was a small stash of furs to dry off on. He put some pants on and ran his hands through his hair, turning towards the polished shield mounted on the wall, acting as a makeshift mirror.

A thin, pale face glared back at him from the shield's surface. The bags under his eyes highlighted how little sleep he'd gotten the night before, and the brown irises themselves, normally warm and shiny, were dull and ill-defined with fatigue. His wet hair hung down over his face, almost completely obscuring one side of it from view, and his soggy ears dropped low to match his mood.

Darius grabbed a bowl of some viscous, cloudy fluid from a table near him - presumably the horn polish. He dipped his hand in - his fingers were long, even more feminine than Ailith's - and rubbed a thin layer of it over his horns. He was the only one of his siblings to inherit his father's horns - thick, bulky ones that curved back out to the front, like those of a mouflon. Ramsey hated him for it. He always said that he was the one who should have received his father's "fighting" horns, and that Darius would have been better off with his mother's "twiggy" ones anyway. Darius would have obliged, as that would both have made his own hobby of climbing easier, and might get his brother to stop harassing him every two minutes.

The polish was beginning to set in, making the small, overlapping ridges glint in the firelight, and the eighteen reddish-amber paint marks to shine. Darius once again looked over himself in the shield-mirror; he had long legs, despite his overall small stature, and he wasn't muscular, but his limbs were sturdy enough for climbing. The small, triangle-shaped region of fur on his back was lightly dappled with tans and browns, terminating in a small tuft that could barely be called a tail. Oh, yeah, Darius was teased from birth for that, too.

The incessant taunting only led to yet another physical attribute for the Kulungu to laugh at; there was a large patch of discolored skin on his left leg - the scarring remnants of hot coals that had been thrown at him when he was a faun. The aggressor, of course, apologized profusely to Darius' mother as she was the village chiefess, saying that he had accidentally knocked over a brazier onto the faun. Darius' mother could frankly care less whether it was an accident or not, for the faun was a runt. He was always last in any ranking they put him in: height, horn length, finesse, dueling, tracking ability, and many others. In short, a disappointment. As for the burn, it scarred Darius' memory as well as his body. He hated being around fire, and would only go near it if he were to otherwise die of cold.

There were, however, two categories that Darius would have excelled in, had they actually tested him: climbing and archery. Both of these he practiced in secret. The Kulungu didn't hunt for food, as they were strictly herbivores; they did it for sport and materials to use in the making of clothes. It was traditional to hunt using traps rather than hand-held weapons, as it was a display of one's intellect and cunning. Bows and knives were mainly kept around as a precaution, something that the Kulungu could rely on if their camp was attacked by beasts or raided by other tribes. Kulungu had never gotten along well with the other races, and often had quarrels with their own. Oftentimes they would shoot down anyone who set foot in their territory that wasn't a member of their tribe. Darius had never understood why there was such animosity between the Kulungu and everyone else, even though his parents insisted that they were all blood-crazed monsters, but it was something that he had grown used to over the years. Ramsey had always prided himself on the fact that he had slain several members of each major race, and had received only a few small scars in return. He had once left home for month or so, just to reclaim a gruesome 'trophy' or two from the south.

Ramsey himself had left that morning to bring back the largest creature he could find for the Ceremony of Embers. The Ceremony was their village's grand religious tradition that took place once every eighteen years, and that meant fire. Lots and lots of fire.

Darius turned away from the mirror and went to put on his shirt: a short sleeved, laced, leather vest-like thing that allowed him to move freely while climbing. Undoubtedly, when his sister returned, she would have him change into something more "ceremonial".

If only he could just skip the celebration altogether.

Hmm....

An idea started to form in Darius' mind. What if he did just skip the ceremony? He could flee to Tau's dwelling, and see if she would let him stay there for a while and perhaps even give him some of her latest catch to bring back to his family as an excuse. It just might work, if he left immediately.

Tau was a Karakali, the only one that dared to live anywhere near Darius' village, and his one and only friend. Her kind, who displayed feline-esque attributes, tended to dwell more in grasslands, meadows, or dryer places, but Tau had always liked the mountains. It was she that taught him how to wield a bow - whenever he visited her in secret, she helped him practice. Tau was happy to teach him what she knew, even though the rest of her race and his never saw eye to eye.

Darius decided to take the risk. He poked his head out of the tent. He could see an orange glow coming from the center of the village - the Kulungu were beginning to build the pyre as early as this, it seemed. No one was around, though - everyone else was getting gleamed up for the celebration. Darius drew his head back inside the tent and glanced around for anything useful for the journey. He spotted an abandoned shortbow in the corner, presumably an old one of Ramsey's. His brother would skin him alive with it if he found out Darius had taken his stuff, even his discarded weapons, but Darius didn't care. He fished around the tent and managed to scrounge up a couple of arrows, most of which could so with some re-fletching. Darius also caught sight of one of his sisters' empty gathering satchels. Couldn't hurt to bring that long, too, he thought to himself as he strapped it to his waist. He grabbed one of the furs as well, and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was rather convenient that Lyall had decided to bathe him in an old supply tent.

With that, and one final cautious peek at his surroundings, Darius left the tent, his village, and the threatening orange glow behind him and headed into the forest once more, his destination upwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He had been walking for a couple of hours among the dense trees. By now, the sun would have shone directly above him, had it not been for the sudden blanket of impermeable grey clouds that shrouded the sky. All of Darius' surroundings were overcast, and the forest had that strange feeling of being both all lit and all shadowed at the same time. The air only continued to get colder as he ascended the poorly trodden, self-marked path. As he kept wandering, the trees began to decrease in both density and height.

As he became more and more exposed, the wind started to blow faster and more violently in tandem to the darkening sky. There wasn't a single bird or critter to be heard, but the soft shhhh-shhhh-ing of the leaves and bushes around him produced an otherworldly harmony. Darius wrapped the fur around his shoulders a little more tightly and shivered with cold, but pressed onward. He couldn't go back now; he either had to go back and never hear the end of it, or go forward towards Tau and familiarity.

The trees were very thin and far between now, and a thin layer of snow covered the ground. It crunched softly under Darius' booted feet, and sprayed icily in his face when more intense gusts of wind blew in his direction. The sky was certainly much darker now.There was evidently a storm on the way, and a couple of stray snowflakes began to fall around him.

There's not that much cover this high up... I have to get to Tau before that black cloud of death comes any closer, he thought to himself, and cursed as the wind bit coldly into his skin.

The ground around him was almost entirely bare of flora now, and the snow was deeper up here. There were a cluster of frost-covered boulders up ahead - he recognised them as one of Tau's landmarks. He must be nearing the cliff face next to which she lived. Darius glanced behind him, down the mountain, at the approaching storm. The sky was completely black in the distance, and the darkness was getting closer by the second. He could still see a faint glow from miles away through the oncoming haze - the ceremonial pyre must be at its largest, he thought. He glanced down the side of the slope. The mountain dropped almost vertically away from him. He had to watch his step, or risk a potentially deadly fall. 

All of a sudden, the storm was upon him. Darius was blasted with freezing cold air that buffeted him this way and that. Snow blew up into his face, blinding, icy, and stinging, and the world around him was thrown into a grey-white haze. He could barely see two feet in front of him, let alone the direction he wanted to travel in. He cursed loudly into the wind, but the snowstorm roared back even louder, completely drowning out his cries.

"Tau!" he screamed as loudly as he could.

Darius stumbled forward, believing that he had caught sight of the boulder landmark once more. His eyes had deceived him, and he walked over empty space. His mind, slow to grasp what was happening, only perceived the feeling of sudden weightlessness that fell across him as he slipped and tumbled off the side of the cliff face.

Darius' world, which, moments ago, was blindingly white, abruptly turned a black darker than that of the ashes of the ceremonial pyre that burned ever brightly far below.

Unaware.

Uncaring.

Unwavering.

Tumbling into a world of darkness, white hot pain, and then blissful silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

End of Chapter 1.


	2. Freefall - Chapter 2

Waking up in general is always disappointing.

Especially if that process includes being ripped away from the comfort and safety of a pleasant dream and being thrust into reality via a ton of water being dumped on your head.

Fletcher's eyes flew open, and he jolted upright in reaction to the feeling of the icy water dripping down his face, his back, and under his shirt. He shivered as he felt the fabric slowly soaking it up, which made it cling to his skin. Still, at least his feathers were dry, for the most part at least.

"You overslept again, you big dopey buzzard," said a melodious voice next to him, teasingly.

The voice belonged to Fletcher's older sister, Gavina. She was perched on a small boulder situated under an outcropping of rock that provided a nice patch of wind-resistant shelter. She smiled as she hunched over, poking the sad remnants of a campfire. A couple of stray, yellow-orange sparks drifted upwards, some of them disappearing harmlessly between the coverts and remiges of her relaxed, soft-brown wings. Their undersides were a light tan, much like a barn owl's, and all of the feathers were extremely soft to the touch - she hated it when anyone (namely Fletcher) touched them without her permission, and she was always very insistent on keeping herself well-groomed at all times.

Even now, as she put down the small stick she was using to revive the fire, Gavina started to reach into the densest areas of her left wing to straighten out some of the feathers there, and to pull out any she thought were damaged.

"I've been up for hours, hunting for something that might keep you alive. You could show a little effort here and there, little brother," she said as she yanked out a small, dappled brown feather.

Fletcher gave a short chuckle, but said nothing. Instead, he shook out the worst of the water from his shirt, and shifted his weight around so that he could get a better look at the sky above him.

There wasn't a cloud to be seen, not even a small wisp of white off in the distance. It was nothing but blue as far as his eyes could see, and that was far, considering he literally had eagle eyes. Well...hawk eyes if you wanted to get specific. They were a faint gold that had the tendency to sparkle in the sunlight. His wings were much darker on the dorsal side than Gavina's, but sported a slightly more complex pattern - the feathers ranged from a deep maple to a light tan, found mostly on the coverts. The undersides were much lighter - almost white on most of his larger flight feathers. The coverts on this side showed some brighter, warmer browns than those on the back. The layer of downy feathers Fletcher had around his shoulders were even more varied - flashes of sand could be seen between patches of dark chocolate. He was quite proud of his wings, saying that he quite closely resembled the regal-looking rough legged hawks in the area, as Gavina often grew tired of hearing. She said he took after his father, at least in appearance.

Fletcher hadn't seen his father in over a year. He was always away due to special diplomatic meetings with other flocks, and only returned home for a few days at a time. He barely knew his children at all, but Fletcher didn't really care. He had Gavina, and that was all that mattered. Gavina, three years his senior, acted as both parent and sibling. Their mother had died before Fletcher even had a week's worth of sight- he barely remembered anything about her, other than the brilliant white color of her soft, comforting wings. Gavina had taken good care of him in their parents' absence. It was she who taught him to fly, as well as the basics of the hunt.

A crisp wind blew softly, ruffling Fletcher's feathers. That, combined with the bare, cloudless sky, sent chills up his spine, and caused his downy feathers to puff up slightly. He shivered, and wrapped his wings a little closer around him.

"Hello? Food?" Gavina gave him a little prod with her wing tip.

"Oh, thanks, Gav," he replied as he turned around again, and shifted closer to the fire out of the breeze.

When he saw the small rabbit roasting on the remains of the fire, he didn't know why his nose hadn't notified him earlier. It looked and smelled delicious, and his mouth began to water. He reached a talon over to it, but Gavina smacked his hand away.

"Nah-ah-ah! Hunter gets the first choice!" she said as she swept up the rabbit and tore off one the hind legs.

"Awww... but I wanted a leg!" Fletcher said moodily.

"Tough. Get up before midday next time and catch your own, and then you can have whatever part you want. Until then though...." she bit down hungrily.

Fletcher watched in dismay as his sister absolutely devoured the legs like she hadn't eaten in weeks, and then he made a move to pick up the rest of the rabbit before she could grab it herself. They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, with the exception of when Fletcher almost choked on a small rib. The meal ended with lighthearted laughter at that whole spectacle (the rib having been spat quite an impressive distance from the fire).

"You're disgusting - you know that, right?" Gavina teased as she stood up, ruffled his hair, and kicked some cold soil over the dying embers.

"Yup, and you love me for it!" her brother replied as he got up, scratched around the interlocking golden scales on his hand, and stretched. Despite literally having wings, he stretched much like a cat - long and slow. He smiled as he heard the satisfying crack of his wrists, shoulders, and neck as he rolled them. Next came the wings themselves - he extended them to their full length. They were quite impressive to any non-Kipanga, but were really quite small in comparison to most of his race. Gavina's wings were only about the average size, and were still larger than his. Still, Fletcher didn't mind - his shorter wingspan allowed him to maneuver with greater accuracy and speed, making tricks and sharp turns easier and more energy efficient. In contrast, however, long flights were a huge pain in the tail. He couldn't fly for more than a couple hours without getting a bit tired, or at least having his wing muscles start to cramp. Fletcher always told himself that being able to do a sweet backflip was much better than just cruising for hours without tiring.

He looked out over the rocks. They were actually quite high up - the mountainside they were camping against was splattered everywhere with lush, green grass, and the hills below them rolled up and down in soft curves here, jagged rocky spires there. Off in the distance, if he squinted, he could see miles and miles of woody areas crowded around a taller, more massive, snow capped mountain.

Fletcher had always wanted to fly over to that mountain, but his sister would never let him. That was all in the Kulunguan tribes' territory. He had never seen a Kulungu before, but he had heard tales of the belligerent, horned archers who slew anyone who traveled near their forest. Many of his own race, who had flown too far north, were never heard from again. The south was just as dangerous, however, if not more, for that was where the vicious reptilian Nyoka dwelled. Fletcher had seen one of them when he was younger, and never wanted to again. They were huge, standing at least a meter or so taller than the average Kipanga, with long tails and expressive fins. The Nyoka had a reputation for being skilled arcane smiths. They perfected their crafts below ground, in dark caverns miles below the surface. Fletcher had flown over the entrance of one of those caverns when he was younger, and was nearly skewered with a rod of arcane energy that came seemingly out of nowhere.

Gavina made sure that he never went south again after that.

As for the far west, Fletcher had never traveled there. Nor did he want to. There were nothing but boring grasslands out there, populated only by the Karakali. He hated felidae, with their small noses and weird ears and teeth and claws and eugh. 

Fletcher and Gavina, like most Kipanga, were nomads - they flew wherever they could find food, often setting up a nest for a couple of months or so before sources ran dry. Some periods lasted longer than others, ranging from three days to nearly half a year. Gavina was feeling like they were nearing the end of this cycle, however, and Fletcher had been tasked with scouting out a new place to nest.

So far, he'd been largely unsuccessful.

The siblings were currently much closer to the northern border than Gavina would like - they could even see some of the horned beasts' ritual fires if they looked hard enough at the base of the mountain in the distance.

Fletcher raised a hand up to shield his eyes, and let the wind flow under his wings, lifting them up slightly. The sun was nearing a point halfway across the sky.

"Better get a move on if you want to get any worthwhile scouting under your belt before the day's done, Eyas," Gavina elbowed him from behind. She liked to refer to him by that name - 'baby hawk'.

"I'm not a nestling anymore, Gav," Fletcher said as he moved his hand to his side, and unsheathed a small but capable hunting knife that was hanging there.

"Want to keep this for the time being?"

Gavina laughed.

"And what would I use it for? Hunting? You know I don't use knives," she raised a challenging eyebrow, and gave him a wry smile.

"Eh, you're right. Might as well take it with me, then. Who knows, maybe I'll catch something this time!" he replied, laughter in both his voice and eyes.

Fletcher turned back towards the open sky. The wind was picking up slightly, and he took note of some clouds forming in the distance behind him. He dismissed them immediately - they weren't very dark - and began to walk backwards to the rock face. He felt his back touch the cool surface and pressed his palm to the smooth, wind-worn rock. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and sprinted towards the edge. Just as he ran out of anywhere to place his feet, he leaped.

The air whistled around his ears like a thousand bird songs all at once, the sheer force of it pushing his hair back behind his slightly pointed ears. Several glorious seconds into the fall, Fletcher snapped out his wings. The air underneath suddenly applied that satisfying feeling of lift, and he soared upwards, quickly rushing past the ledge he had just plummeted from.

Even when I'm ancient, Fletcher thought, flying will never get old!

"Just make sure you're back here before the sun sets!" his sister yelled at him from the ground.

"Yeah, sure. Catch you later, Gav!"

Fletcher whooped as he flew ever higher, circling on an updraft. The sunlight shone directly through his wings, making them glow with a warm light. His feathers tingled with energy, and he gave himself another boost of speed with a few strong downward strokes. Soon, he was no more than a speck in the distance from Gavina's eyes, and could easily be mistaken as just another bird on the wind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fletcher's wing muscles began to feel that familiar ache; he had flown northeast for about four hours over empty hills, lush grass, and patches of trees, only stopping to rest twice for a breather. He let the air flow effortlessly under his outstretched wings for a minute or so without making a single downstroke, and glided leisurely in a circle. Fletcher's eyes locked on to a small rocky outcropping far below him that should, he calculated, act as a decent landing spot for the time being.

Closing his nictitating membranes so as to shield his eyes from the oncoming burst of air, Fletcher suddenly pulled his wings tightly to his back and fell into a nosedive. The wind whistled past him, but he kept his course as the ground rose quickly up to meet him. Two seconds before impact, he opened his wings again and flapped several times, hard. The wind he stirred up from the wing strokes kicked up a cloud of small leaves that had floated down onto the rock from the plants growing on the ledge above him. Fletcher dropped the rest of the way onto his feet (albeit rather inelegantly), and sneezed when one of the stray leaves roes up and tickled his nose.

It was colder here, he observed, although he hadn't traveled too far. Fletcher noted some patches of frost here and there on the shadier patches of ground around him, and reminded himself to finish up soon.

"Have to get back before dark," he said to himself, looking up at the position of the sun - it was now about two thirds of the way along its celestial course across the sky. Or, at least, that's what he suspected was true. He could barely see the sun itself now, as the sky had quickly clouded over within the last hour or so. A grey haze was beginning to play with the atmosphere around him, cancelling out both shadow and light.

That won't be good for my depth perception. Ah, well.

Fletcher could still make out the snow capped mountain in the distance. Actually, he was a little closer to it now than he had previously thought. He squinted at it, and then at the thick forest of trees clustered at the base of it.

"I bet there'd be tons of critters in there," he thought out loud, "and ample nesting resources, too."

So far he had come across nothing promising. Sure, he had seen the flit of a tail here, the flap of a small wing there, but no actual abundance of life or anything that seemed like it could be lived on, let alone have protected areas for roosting. He knew as well as Gav that above anything else, they needed to be somewhere high up - namely, away from the ranged weapons of the grounded folk. One of the first things he was taught when he learned how to fly was how to move evasively in midair. However, not even he with his smaller wingspan and expert maneuverability would be able to outdodge arrows forever.

The mountain was looking to be Fletcher's best bet. He knew Gavina wouldn't like the idea of going across tribal borders, but he believed it would be too cold for the Kulungu at that altitude. They liked fire, not snow - they would stay sheltered in their forest rather than ascending to the peak. Fletcher was indifferent towards both things. He appreciated the warmth that fire provided, but not when it threatened to burn down habitable regions. He also liked snow, unless it came in a storm that made flying impossible. Regardless, he looked towards the mountain as the most likely candidate for their next roost. He'd still have to gain Gavina's approval, though. If only he had something to bring back to show her its treasures...

He had to catch something.

Fletcher was an excellent hunter, despite the fact that Gavina teased him about his laziness. She liked to rise early in the morning to build some contraption to snare a rabbit or some other poor creature. Fletcher, on the other hand, preferred to circle high above a target region until he spotted a sign of movement, and then dive bomb his quarry while it was unaware. He was especially good at catching smaller critters with this method, but he could take down some larger creatures (mostly deer) as long as he had enough force behind his dive. The sheer shock from impact alone was often enough to make Fletcher's quarry keel over, but his knife would always finish the job if the need ever presented itself.

He rolled his shoulders a couple of times and flexed his wings in preparation for taking off again. He was going to sleep well that night - he'd barely given himself any time to rest at all since he departed that morning. Fletcher once again took a running leap off the side of the rock, and used the speed he gained to boost his altitude. The light in the sky was fading much more rapidly than he would have liked - he definitely wasn't going to be back at the nest by sundown as Gavina had instructed.

The air tasted heavy and crisp, and every time he exhaled, a puff of steam would escape from his mouth. Granted, it was always cold at such heights, but it was even more so due to the rapidly approaching storm clouds. Fletcher shuddered mid-flight, despite the insulation that his downy feathers were providing him. He was nearing the mountain now - the tops of the trees were wavering gently in the growing wind. To the west, far below, he eyed an orange glow that peeked out from among the trees.

That pyre must still be burning, he thought as he stared at it.

Better stay clear of that. Where there's fire, there's Kulungu.

He turned his golden gaze forwards and upwards, towards the snow capped peak. As the trees became smaller and more scarce, the size of the frosted boulders appeared to increase as well, providing many nooks and crannies that looked to be easily accessible from the air, but at the same time protected from the ground and the biting winds.

That might be a good place as any to hole up, at least until the morning, Fletcher observed. He was still quite a ways away from the mountainside itself, so he began to increase the strength of his downbeats despite his oncoming fatigue. The wind was getting even stronger now - it made flying in a straight path all the more difficult. He gritted his teeth as a particularly strong, blisteringly cold gust forced him to descend for a few seconds. Fletcher shook his head and fought against the sky to regain the height he had lost, when he felt something cold touch his arm.

Snow.

"Shit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Despite how tired he was, and how much his wings hurt from hours of flying, Fletcher flew like he had never flown before. He had to outfly the storm before it drove him into the ground. The gray haze that had been slowly descending for the past few hours abruptly thickened, clouding his vision. The snowfall that had started as only a couple of solitary flakes soon became a blizzard of icy projectiles that pelted his limbs and weighed down his wings. He was in for the flight of his life - literally.

After what seemed like an eternity of mad flapping, his wings now almost too frigid to keep him aloft, Fletcher made out the silhouette of several large boulders on the mountainside he was nearing. Despite sunlight being nonexistent, the snow was almost blinding - the world was practically monochrome.

His vision was blurred both from the blizzard and from his nictitating membranes (which he had closed almost permanently since the snow started to pelt his face), but Fletcher thought he could make out something moving far below him. It was little more than a brown smudge against the snow, and situated quite a ways down from the cluster of boulders on a ledge above it. Fletcher blinked (with his primary eyelids this time), and rubbed the worst of the snow from his face. Although it pained him greatly to do so in such weather, he managed to hover directly above the shifting brown mass. Was it a rabbit? What the hell was it doing out in a storm like this? Well... at least it was something.

He folded his wings, and dropped like a stone.

The cold air bit into his skin, but Fletcher had stopped caring. He was going to catch whatever it was that was down there, and then find a place to hole up before he became a bird-sicle.

At least, that was his plan before an arrow whizzed past him, narrowly grazing his ear.

Fletcher didn't have enough time to pull out of the dive, so instead he rolled to the side and crashed into a pile of powdery snow. It wasn't graceful, but at least he was relatively unscathed.

Immediately, he rolled onto his back and pushed himself up with his wings, leaping nimbly through the air to land directly onto the thing he was trying to catch in the first place, knife unsheathed.

"...What the hell?!" he said, and stared at the thing he had pinned down, knife to its throat; it wasn't a rabbit, nor was it any kind of critter.

It was a Kulungu.

In turn, the Kulungu was staring back at him, eyes wide with fear, pain, and wonder, a bow at its side, and an arrow, not yet nocked, in its hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

End of Chapter 2.


	3. Freefall - Chapter 3

The blackness cleared in patches from Darius' eyes, like fire burning away at yellowed parchment, to be replaced with pure white. The storm hadn't cleared, not by a long shot. In fact, judging by the fact that he was still alive, Darius guessed that only a few minutes maximum had passed since...

Since...

He tried to collect his thoughts. He was lying on the ground, almost completely submerged under the powdery snow. The blizzard made it nearly impossible to see anything, but he could tell that he was lying next to the mountainside. He must have fallen right off the edge.

Darius rustled around a bit, managing to dislodge some of the snow from his torso. He was strangely warm, yet numb at the same time.

This can't be good...

He had to get somewhere sheltered, and fast. His bow was lying a couple of feet away from him, with only the tip jutting out of the deep snow. Darius tried to turn over, to stand up and get it, but the second he tried to move his leg, an agonizing pain shot through him. He cried out, but the sound was drowned out by the storm. He slowed his breathing, and weighed his options.

Well, at least his spine was still working, even if his leg was shattered. The snow had softened most of the fall - it must have gotten caught on a rock when he fell. Darius gritted his teeth in an effort to dampen the pain as he managed to crawl very slowly over to his bow, and dig it out of the snow drift. Miraculously, he still had his quiver on his back. Most of the arrows were bent (or destroyed completely), but one or two could still potentially fly.

He was shaking now, the feeling of numb warmth quickly leaving him as his leg began to throb. Each pulse sent a wave of nausea through him, chiling his bones even more .

Darius flopped over onto his back again, breathing heavily from the exertion. There was no possible way he could get himself out of this situation, not with his leg in such a state.

He felt the wind bite his nose, ears, and fingers mercilessly. He'd be lucky to leave this place alive, much less with all of his digits still attached.

After what felt like an eternity of staring at the sky, his vision still greatly impaired,Darius thought he could make out something moving far above him. Obscured by the whirling snow, it was nothing more than a dark blotch shakily weaving to and fro as it was buffeted by the wind. Darius didn't bother to move. What was the point? If a vulture was planning to get a meal, he'd have more luck if he just let it come to him first.

Wait... what was a vulture doing out in this weather? What was anything doing out in this weather?

...I'm such an idiot. Who ever thought running from the Ceremony would be a good idea?

He fidgeted a little in the snow, trying to show the thing above him that he was not dead. Maybe it'd go away if it was a vulture? Darius struggled to sit up, and clutched his bow a little more tightly in his hand. The wood felt comforting - well, as much as he could feel, considering his fingers were almost rendered immobile. The fluff on his tail and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck straight up, and he shivered uncontrollably.

The blotch in the sky seemed to be getting closer. As it did so, Darius could make out the faint outline of wings. A bird then? It couldn't be a vulture, he decided. But what was it? It was too big to be an owl, and too small to be a mountain griffon.

The winged shape suddenly began to plummet towards the ground. Towards him. Darius began to panic - the last thing he needed was to be plucked off the mountain by some kind of giant hungry avian thing when the only thing he had to defend himself was a bow and two arrows.

... A bow and two arrows.

He fumbled as quickly as he could in the deep snow, pulled one of the intact arrows out of his quiver and shakily nocked it, wincing as he accidentally put weight onto his injured leg. Darius adjusted himself with great difficulty, and pointed his bow upwards at the rapidly approaching figure. He was shaking so violently, both with cold and fright, that it was almost impossible to get a clear shot, aside from the fact that the wind was relentless and his sight was impaired.

The figure definitely wasn't a normal bird. No... it was humanoid - it had distinct arms and legs, with two great wings that were closely pinned to its body. The bird was diving straight towards him. Darius couldn't see its face, nor did he care. He pulled back the string, and fired. He watched as the arrow flew through the air, narrowly missing his target. Darius watched with wonder as the figure swerved midair to avoid being hit, straight into the snow bank next to him.

Snow was blasted in every direction by the force of the impact, and Darius wasn't given a moment of peace before the winged humanoid quickly righted itself and flung its entire body at him. Darius cried out, fell, and dropped his bow as he was pinned down and a knife was held to his throat. He stared wide-eyed at the tall figure that was incapacitating him, its wings fully extended in a menacing gesture and its own face contorted into an expression of equal surprise.

"...What the hell?!" it said. Or rather, he said. "You're not a... a rabbit!"

Darius paused for a second, confused. Then he tried to shove the figure off of him.

"You're damn right I'm not a bloody rabb-aAH!" Darius covered the rest of the outcry with his free hand - the winged person had just knelt directly onto his wound.

The figure, looking rather disorientated and off-put, suddenly took the knife away from Darius' throat and stood up awkwardly.

"Uh... sorry about that. Um... you're a Kulungu... aren't you?" he asked slowly.

Darius gave an affirmative grunt as he pulled his leg in closer. He sat up and glared up at the avian - it looked like he was subconsciously using his wings as a shield against the blizzard.

"And you're a Kipanga, judging from the wings," Darius replied.

The Kipanga just stood there awkwardly, cocking its head in a very birdlike manner. Darius noted that the downy feathers around his neck had puffed up in the cold.

"...Sorry about trying to...shoot you?" Darius said in an effort to break the silence.

"It's fine. I understand - I was diving straight for your throat. So. Um. Yeah."

Darius couldn't believe that this was the first conversation he had ever had with a member of another species - awkwardly trying to apologize for nearly killing each other while literally almost freezing to death on the side of a mountain.

"Well... since it doesn't look like either of us are interested in, um, murdering each other, or being turned into icicles, maybe we could ... help each other? At least until the blizzard clears up?" the Kipanga suggested.

Great - not only had Darius ran away from the Ceremony, but he was also stranded on a mountainside with a member of another race who the Kulungu frequently shot down for trophies. Nothing wrong with this whatsoever. Still... it wasn't as if he had any other option.

"Fine," he replied, his ears pinned down with defeat.

The avian reached down a hand to help him up - Darius took note of the claw-like nails and golden scales surrounding each knuckle before accepting it. He was helped slowly to his feet, but the deep snow and agonizing pain made him lose balance almost immediately. Darius tripped directly into the stranger, who pushed him back gently with his wings.

"There should be a cave not too far from here - an old friend of mine lives there," Darius explained to the Kipanga. "It's near a cluster of three large boulders... I don't suppose you had a glimpse of something of that description from the sky?"

The avian gave a small smile, and held out a wing to shield them both from the worst of the wind. "Yeah, actually. I was about to land there when I spotted you and.. well.. you know the rest. I'm Fletcher, by the way, in case you were wondering. You know, 'cause I'm saving your life and all," he laughed.

"Good. Well... alright. I can lead us there. Thanks, um ... Fletcher. I'm Darius. I guess."

"You guess?"

"Ugh, shut up before I really do shoot you this time," Darius said sarcastically, and then immediately regretted it. He shouldn't be joking with a member of another species that had just tried to skin him.

Fletcher threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! You point me in the right direction."

They stumbled at a snail's pace up the mountainside, the wind pushing them this way and that. Fletcher's wings deflected some of the snow, but that didn't stop the cold itself from seeping into Darius' every pore. After what felt like twenty years, the two finally reached the three boulders situated near the ledge that Darius himself had tumbled off of. This time, Darius limped very closely to the mountainside, almost hugging the rocks. Fletcher turned his back to the wind, positioning himself between the Kulungu and the edge. Visibility was dropping quickly now that the sun itself was disappearing not only behind the blizzard, but behind the horizon as well. Night was swiftly approaching - they had to hurry if they wanted to live to see another dawn.

After about half an hour of walking in near total darkness, the odd duo spied a gap in the mountainside.

"This is it," Darius croaked, his voice scratchy and quiet from exhaustion and cold.

There was an opening in the rock, a couple of feet wide - enough for both to squeeze through. After several difficult steps through the gap, the hole opened up into a much larger cavern that was completely devoid of snow. It was pitch black, so Darius had to feel his way along the wall.

"Hey," Fletcher called out in the dark. "You been here often? You seem to look like you know what you're doing."

Darius said nothing, but proceeded to feel around the cavern wall.

"Tau has this Nyokan device that gives off light. Some kind of bioluminescence, she said."

"Tau?"

"Yeah. She's that friend I mentioned. This is her home. I come here every so often when..." Darius hesitated.

"When...?"

"Never mind." He went back to searching.

After several more minutes of scrambling in the dark, he finally found it.

"Gotcha!"

A soft, blue-green glow began to emanate from the object Darius cupped in his hands. It was spherical, and looked almost like a lamp. Fletcher's eyes widened, and he took a couple curious but wary steps forward.

"Neat, isn't it? Sorry it took me a million years to find it - Tau can see much better in the dark than I can." He placed the orb on a flat rock a little above his head.

The light pulsed a little stronger every minute, further illuminating the cavern around it. Fletcher eyed the room - the corners were cluttered with various objects and tools, some of which he recognised, others he didn't. They were clearly collected from a variety of races - traded, stolen, or crafted, he couldn't tell. Among the cultural paraphernalia were some patches of fur, a claw here, a tooth there, and small feathers. Everything looked to be quite meticulously organized.

Fletcher stayed away from the feather and bone pile.

Darius, on the other hand, wandered closer towards it.

"Doesn't look that different from the last time I was here - there's nothing new. She must have been out for a while," Darius observed.

"So.... who exactly is Tau? Another Kulungu?" Fletcher subconsciously began to see if there were any weapons stashed here.

"Nah. She's a Karakali," Darius replied as he shakily sat down.

Fletcher flinched.

"Karakali?"

Darius laughed, his breath creating a cloud of steam.

"What, don't like cats?"

Fletcher laughed nervously along with him, until Darius broke down into a fit of violent coughing that ended with him curled up in the fetal position, shivering uncontrollably.

"Shit... we need to get you warmed up somehow."

The Kipanga cast his eyes around the room, scanning for anything that could be used to start a fire. He sauntered over to the Nyokan illumination device and poked it. It rattled a bit, but didn't seem to give off much heat, if any. He glanced to his left and spied an old collection of sticks.

"Looks like even Karakali get cold sometimes," he said to himself as he grabbed an armful and dropped them by the shivering form in the corner.

Let's see if I can remember what Gav taught me about lighting fires.

Fletcher knelt down by the sticks and picked two out from the pile.

This should do.

One had a convenient little notch in it. The second he began to strip thinner with his sharp nails so that it would fit into the notch. After that was over, Fletcher began the arduous task of frantically spinning the thinner stick around and around. Eventually, the friction managed to conjure a couple of sad sparks, and the stick pile began to smoke a little. After a few more minutes, a few small flames pricked up from the depths of the stick bunch.

Success!

Fletcher's downy feathers puffed up with pride.

He looked over at Darius, who apparently was oblivious to the fire (Fletcher de-puffed a little when he discovered that this amazing feat of strength had gone unnoticed). He was still curled up, facing the wall. His shivering grew less violent as time dragged on, and his labored breathing became more rhythmic as sleep eventually took over.

The fire popped and crackled, a pleasant sound to Fletcher's ears. The warm orange light contrasted quite beautifully with the eerie blue glow from the opposite side of the room, he noticed. He stretched his wings a little, and winced - the amount of energy he had exerted through them in the past few hours was more than he ever had done in the rest of his life combined, he thought. The feathers were ruffled and disordered from the wind, and his muscles were beginning to scream at him. Fletcher pulled in one of his wings and began to smooth the smaller, more reachable feathers. This went on for another quarter of an hour before he gave up - he wasn't that flexible, and couldn't reach the feathers on his back, not by a long shot. Instead, he glared at the fire in an attempt to get him in the mood to sleep.

Sleep still wouldn't come.

Fletcher threw some more sticks onto the fire, which looked like it needed a pick-me-up. The wind was still howling outside, and it was still dark. No way was he going to leave the cave yet, not while that blizzard was still out there.

Not while someone literally depended on him for survival.

Speaking of that someone, Fletcher looked over the rekindled flames at Darius.

The Kulungu was still facing the wall, but had shifted into a more relaxed position in his sleep. The orange light cast by the fire reflected off of the surface of his sturdy, curved horns (were they... polished?). Dark hair fell softly over his relaxed face, lightly adorned with freckles, and one of his long, deer-like ears twitched. He looked peaceful and innocent - the exact opposite of what Fletcher had expected from most descriptions of the Kulungu. He had often imagined them as hulking beasts with great, powerful hooves and antlers the size of oak trees. Fletcher laughed a little to himself. More like a fawn than a buck.

Almost as though Darius could hear the Kipanga's thoughts, he frowned in his sleep and turned over. Fletcher observed quietly when he flicked his tail tuft as a spark landed on it. It was kind of endearing, Fletcher concluded.

Might as well get some rest, he thought, especially if I'm going to try to catch something tomorrow.

With that, he curled up on the cavern floor next to the softly crackling fire, and wrapped his wings tightly around himself to absorb as much heat as possible. Within minutes, he was asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of Chapter 3.


	4. Freefall - Chapter 4

Darius awoke in relative darkness. It was cold, very cold, and yet he recognized that he was in a sheltered place, not sleeping outside on the forest floor. He sat up slowly, his head pounding, and rubbed his eyes groggily. He looked around, unsure of where he was. There were clutters of random tools and materials lying everywhere, and in the corner rested a spherical lamp-like thing that gave off a faint blue glow. On the ground next to him lay a pile of charred sticks - any fire that was once there had long since gone out (thank the gods).

Looking towards the light that filtered in from the entrance of the cave, Darius tried to recall the events of the night before. Everything was a blur - he remembered leaving his home and climbing up the mountain to... to see Tau. Yes, that was right. This must be Tau's cave, Darius thought to himself. He recalled the sudden storm that had caught him unawares, and his tumble off of the side of the mountain. Darius felt a sudden rush of pain in his leg, almost as though it, too, was reminded of the incident. What happened after that was... confusing at best. All he knew was that he wouldn't be sitting here right now if it weren't for that bird that dropped out of the sky.

No... it wasn't a bird. It was a Kipanga.

Darius' memories came flooding back in a sudden rush of color and detail - the sharp pain from his fall, the oncoming frostbite from the blizzard, and the arrival of Fletcher. Darius retraced their steps in his mind, up until the point where he had fallen asleep in Tau's cave, where Fletcher had apparently lit a fire without Darius' knowing about it in order to keep him from freezing to death. 

Speaking of Fletcher, he was nowhere to be found. Aside from the burned pile of sticks and two tiny down feathers, there was no sign of him.

Must have left as soon as the storm cleared, Darius thought as he reached over to pick up one of the feathers. He winced as he leaned across his wounded leg, but didn't make any further effort to change his position. Darius scrutinized the feather, bringing it close to his face and squinting at it. It was very soft, although not as soft as the owl feathers he himself sometimes collected. He took note of several golden, dappled spots at the tip, creating a nice contrast to the lighter tan of the base of it. Never thought I'd ever see a Kipanga up close, much less have one save my life.

After staring at the feather for a few more minutes, Darius' stomach interrupted his train of thought. He blatantly realized that he hadn't eaten or drank anything in a day and a half (it being a tradition to refrain from eating on the morning of the Ceremony). That might explain the pounding headache and stomachache, in addition to the ever-present throb from his leg. Darius scanned the room once more in an effort to spy anything that could provide any kind of nourishment - some nuts, leaves, anything. To his dismay, the most edible-looking thing in the whole cave appeared to be the pile of ash at his feet. Darius exhaled, and laboriously got to his feet. He limped with the grace and speed of a blind turtle over to the cave entrance and peered out.

It was bone-chillingly cold, but nowhere near as bad as it was during the blizzard of the previous night. The sun, Darius estimated, had risen about an hour ago - there were still traces of orange lining the bottom of the clouds in the distance. For the most part, the sky was a light grey - snow was falling at a peaceful pace. It was beautifully serene, and silent, too.

Darius was just about to take another step out into the snow, when, seemingly out of nowhere, Fletcher landed with a whumph right in front of him. Darius stumbled backwards with surprise, and would have fallen if the cave wall wasn't where.

"Woah, there! I didn't expect you to even be awake, much less ready to leave," Fletcher said as he shook out his wings. Some stray snowflakes fluttered down as he repeated the same action with his hair. Darius' nose twitched as the scent of something metallic reached him. Was that blood?

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Fletcher looked a little confused.

"...Yeah? I just got breakfast.," he said as he showed Darius the thing he was carrying. It was a rabbit, and a large one at that. Its neck was bent at an odd angle, and the hand that was holding it was slightly smeared with the critter's blood. At the sight, Darius pinned his ears back. Fletcher noticed the action, and looked a little taken aback.

"You do eat meat, right?" he asked, cocking his head.

Darius shook his head and averted his gaze from the cloudy eyes of the dead rabbit.

"Uh... no, but if it stops me from starving to death, I guess I could try to stomach it. Thanks for catching it," Darius added.

Fletcher nodded in response, and pushed past the Kulungu into the cave. He sauntered over to the fire, set down his catch, and began to rustle through a pouch by his side. After removing a couple more sticks, as well as some relatively dry moss, he threw them onto the ash pile. He gestured with his head for Darius to come back over.

"Gotta get this fire burning again. You still need to warm up, and I need some damn nourishment. Flying's pretty strenuous, you know," he said.

"Wait. Do we have to light the fire?" Darius asked nervously as he struggled to sit back down next to the stick pile.

"Unless you want to both freeze that little tuft of yours off and eat this thing raw, then yes."

Darius looked a little offended by the former comment, but said nothing about it.

"Fine. Just as long as it's small, and not anywhere near me."

"Suit yourself."

Fletcher repeated his stick-rubbing process, pleased that someone was actually acknowledging his efforts this time. Darius flinched when the sparks finally caused the moss to start smoking, but made an effort to not turn away. They sat in silence for a while while Fletcher skinned and skewered the rabbit (this Darius did not watch). When he put the small slab of meat onto the tiny fire, Darius guilty admitted to himself that it did indeed smell quite appetizing, despite the fact that he had never eaten anything other than nuts, roots, leaves or berries before.

While the rabbit was cooking away, Fletcher turned his attention once more to Darius.

"Right, then. Let's have a look at that leg."

Darius looked at him.

"I mean, I'm not an expert or anything, but right now, I'm the best you've got," Fletcher said with a wry smile.

When Darius still made no move to either reply or to get up, Fletcher shifted closer towards him, making sure that his wings were pulled out of the way first. Darius flinched when the Kipanga made a move to grab the bottom of his trouser leg.

"I'm not going to eat you. We've already been over this. Just let me look at it, would you?" Fletcher looked impatiently down at him, for Darius had fallen on his back in an attempt to wriggle out of the bird's clutches.

"I'm fine," Darius spat, with a little more force and bitterness than he meant.

"Alright, alright! Chill!" Fletcher threw up his hands in defeat, and turned back to the fire. Darius quickly pulled his trouser leg back down over the burn scarring that had briefly revealed itself. He glanced at Fletcher, who said nothing - either he didn't notice the deformity, or he didn't care. Relieved, Darius sat up a little straighter against the wall and pulled his legs up to his chin.

After ten more awkward minutes or so of not talking, Fletcher suddenly pulled the rabbit off of the fire.

"She's done!" he said, lightheartedly. He took his knife and stripped a piece off, and held it out to Darius.

"Here's your little piece of heaven! Still can't believe you've never tasted a fresh catch before - I would have thought with your horns and everything that you would. Then again, I guess the Karakali eat enough meat for all of the races combined."

"The horns are more decorative in our culture, actually," Darius replied nonchalantly as he took the strip of rabbit. "We barely ever use them aggressively. If we must fight someone or something, we usually use our bows."

"I've noticed," Fletcher said, eyeing Darius' bow in the corner. Darius watched with curiosity as the Kipanga tore into his share of the catch like he hadn't eaten in days. Well... then again, that was probably true.

Both dreading what was coming, and yet also being quite intrigued as to the outcome, Darius sniffed the slice of rabbit in his hand.

"Go on," Fletcher said with his mouth full. "Eat it while it's hot. It won't try to run away from you or anything."

Despite all of his preconceptions about what rabbit might have tasted like, Darius discovered that he rather enjoyed it. It was vastly different than anything he'd ever eaten before, but he certainly wasn't disgusted by it, by any means. He quickly polished off the slice before asking for more.

"Easy there. Glad to see that you haven't turned your nose up at your first rabbit, but that being said, you probably shouldn't eat too much. As you've pointed out many times, it's not like you're used to eating meat," Fletcher noted.

"Damn. Fair enough, though," Darius said, feeling genuinely disappointed.

"I should have enough energy left after this to look for some... I dunno what you eat. Twigs or something?" Fletcher joked as he shifted his weight and stretched his wings slightly, polishing off the last of the rabbit.

"Heh - close. Roots or berries should be fine. Just as long as they aren't small, round, and black.

"What's wrong with those? You a pickier eater than I made you out to be?"

Darius chuckled under his breath.

"Nah - those are frosty nightshade. Poisonous. Wouldn't want to get those anywhere near you, let alone eat them."

"Ah - I'll be sure to keep an eye out for those."

Fletcher grunted as he stood up, the weight of his wings making him wobble a bit. He stamped his foot down over the dying fire, spraying some ash on the floor. Darius was surprised to note that he had completely forgotten about the fire while he was eating - perhaps his irrational phobia was getting better?

As Darius was riding this particular train of thought, Fletcher walked over to him and kneeled down, back facing him.

"Uh...what are you doing?" Darius asked, confused.

Fletcher looked over his shoulder, and eyed him matter-of-factly.

"I saved your life, got you to shelter, and made you breakfast. I even offered to look at that leg of yours. The least you could do is sort through my feathers. I promise it's not as boring as it sounds."

Darius was caught off guard.

"You're literally the first Kipanga I've ever met, and you want me to give you a massage? I haven't even seen a wing this large up close, much less touched one."

Still not turning around, Fletcher rolled his eyes.

"Look, if I want you to trust me enough to help you out, I'm going to have to trust you to do the same thing. Capiche?"

"Not...really? But fair point, I guess."

Darius took a proper, long look at the Kipanga's wings for the first time. The smaller feathers on the underside all had that tawny, gold-dusted look that the one on the floor had from earlier. The ones on the back were much darker - a warm ebony interlocked with tufts of tan. The larger feathers (primaries, Darius remembered they were called) were a soft, off-white color on the underside, and had that same dark brown on the dorsal side. He reached out gently and ran a fingertip down the vane of one of the long primaries. It was soft, although not as much as the downy feather he had observed earlier. Fletcher didn't react to the touch .

"It'll be easier for me to reach your whole wing if you are sitting, rather than kneeling," Darius said, his eyes still on the feather he had touched.

Fletcher complied without speaking.

Now that the feathers were within reach, Darius placed a hand down lightly on the center of one of the large wings. After looking once more at Fletcher, almost as though he were asking for permission, he proceeded to run his hand through the thicker part of his wing. He could feel the shape and direction of each feather as they overlapped one another, creating a velvety and yet mostly streamlined mass. As Darius began to use his other hand to sort through the smaller feathers, straightening them out and un-ruffling them, he could visibly see Fletcher's shoulders relax. It was strange, doing this for someone he only just met, but Darius continued nonetheless. It wasn't as though this was the weirdest part of his week.

Fletcher exhaled as he could feel his wing feathers being untangled and smoothed down. Gav hadn't helped him preen in what felt like eons, and damn he hadn't thought about how much he had needed it until now. He closed his eyes to the sensation and slackened his wing muscles even more. He hadn't realized how tense he had been until this moment, and welcomed the little bit of serenity. They stayed like that for a few more minutes in a peaceful silence - finally one that wasn't brimming with tension or awkwardness.

Darius stopped grooming through the feathers for a moment to admire his handiwork. In a very short amount of time, they looked much more orderly and sleek - more comfortable, even. He looked up at the back of Fletcher's head, which was tilted downward restfully. Since he gave no sign to either stop or continue, Darius thought he might as well finish what he started, especially since Fletcher had done so much for him in the past 24 hours. This was the least he could do, after all. He leaned forward to where the wings themselves connected to the Kipanga's back. The connection itself was covered by Fletcher's shirt, but Darius could tell that more downy feathers covered that region of his back as well. He reached up to one of the large muscles there, and slowly began to knead the knots out of it. He paused abruptly when he heard Fletcher inhale sharply.

"Does that hurt?" he asked quickly.

The Kipanga exhaled, opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder.

"No, actually - quite the OPPosite," Fletcher's voice caught a little as a wave of relief flooded through his back and up his shoulder.

"Even my sister hasn't been able to reach that spot. You know, because of the claws and such." He wiggled his own to make a point.

Darius continued to massage the sore spot.

"I didn't know you have a sister?"

Fletcher leaned backwards slightly.

"Yeah. Her name's Gavina, but I just call her Gav. Speaking of which, she's probably getting her feathers all ruffled over the fact that I haven't returned yet. Ah well. I've been gone for longer."

"If she's anything like mine, she shouldn't notice for a while yet."

"You also have a sister? I thought you might have been a loner, given that you were out there on the mountain by yourself."

Darius snorted.

"I have two, actually. And a brother. They're not like me, to say the least. I would advise you to stay as far away from them as possible."

"Doesn't sound like you like them very much. But that doesn't explain why you were out there freezing to death yesterday."

Darius paused yet again at that remark, and took his hand away from Fletcher's back.

"It... I guess it was for a more... personal reason. Yesterday was the day of a huge festival - the start of a big cultural tradition. I wanted no part of it."

Fletcher cracked his neck and turned around to face the Kulungu, feeling a little disappointed at the abrupt end to the grooming.

"Why? If this is some 'big cultural' thing, wouldn't you want to participate, even a little bit? I mean, I'm by no means a social butterfly, but then again, I haven't exactly had a chance to be," Fletcher cracked a wry smile.

"It's not just the people there, or my siblings. It's the festivities themselves, I guess."

"'Festivities?'"

"Yeah. How much do you know about my race?"

Fletcher's face contorted a little as he wracked his brain for any history or lore that Gavina might have taught him.

"Uh... that you guys, like, worship fire or something?"

Darius raised an eyebrow.   
"Something like that."

"And you don't?"

"No. I hate it."

Fletcher cocked his head to the side, a strand or two of golden hair falling across his eyes.

"But... why?"

"Does it really matter? I just don't!" Darius snapped.

Like before, Fletcher threw up his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright. Touchy subject. I get it. I won't pry."

He grunted audibly as he got up this time to roll his shoulders and stretch his wings.

"Hey - thanks for helping me with preening. I feel better than I've done in months. Maybe even years!" he turned back to the Kulungu.

Darius' expression of anger fell once more at Fletcher's genuine, bright tone of gratitude. He subconsciously scratched behind his ears, both of which were pinned back slightly in embarrassment and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Yeah. Of course."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

End of Chapter 4.


	5. Freefall - Chapter 5

A few hours after Fletcher's grooming, snow began to fall again outside the cave entrance, but it was a light dusting rather than a full-on blizzard. The sky above was a mosaic of interlocking grey and white, and hung low, only more like a comforting blanket than a constricting barrier. There was seldom any wind, either, and the only gusts that blew were smooth and soft.

In short, it was beautiful weather for a short leisure flight.

"Hey Darius - the only time you've seen a Kipanga in flight was when I nearly killed you via almost smashing your skull in, right?" Fletcher suddenly asked after staring into the softly glowing embers of the dying fire for the past hour.

Darius jumped a little at the sudden sound of his voice. "Uh... yeah. I guess. And hey - I was the one that nearly killed you. Remember the arrow?" He paused for a second, and his brows furrowed a little. "Wait a second... where's my bow?" He smacked a hand to his forehead and groaned outwardly. "I can't believe I left it behind in that snowdrift!"

Fletcher raised an amused but pitying eyebrow. "Well... you were kind of senseless at the time, and there was a deadly blizzard and stuff, too, so.... I think you have a good excuse. Hey, if you want to come out for a bit while I stretch my wings, we could look for it. Me from above, of course, and you from the ground?"

The Kulungu was about to protest, but stopped himself. "That... actually sounds like a good idea. Only while the weather is good though. The second it starts to turn I'm coming back inside. I won't be able to go far anyway, because of my leg."

Fletcher shrugged, and punched Darius lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, if you had let me set it for you, you wouldn't be in this predicament now, would ya?" He chuckled softly as he walked towards the cave entrance. Darius scowled, cursed under his breath, and shuffled slowly after him.

The air outside was crisp, fresh, and cool. Fletcher inhaled deeply, and let it out with a loud whoo! He closed his eyes as he stretched his wings out to their full length, and then his arms to match. The subtle wind ruffled his feathers enough so he could acutely feel every single one of them, but thankfully not to the point of ruining Darius' hard work from earlier on. That was about to change, though.

Despite the cloud cover, the snow was still quite blindingly white to Darius, who had just emerged from the cave. He tried to shield his eyes with his hand, but soon gave up. He settled for squinting at Fletcher instead, and wrapping his arms around himself. Despite that, however, Fletcher noticed his ears were perked up in a rather adorable display of curiosity and anticipation.

Fletcher looked back over his shoulder at the Kulungu. "You can stay up here if you want and just watch - that might be safer."

"I can handle a few stupid gusts of wind," Darius growled.

Fletcher threw up his hands. "Alright! Well, don't count on me to swoop in and save you if you fall off a cliff or anything this time, mkay?" He then had the audacity to wink.

And suddenly, Fletcher turned a full one-eighty so he was facing Darius, closed his eyes, and fell backwards off the side of the mountain.

Despite the pain in his leg, Darius ran (or, rather, clumsily stumbled) to the edge where the Kipanga had taken the dive, and peered over.

Just before Fletcher hit the sharp, snow-dusted rocks below, he opened his eyes, flipped around, and snapped open his wings. He shot upwards with an incomprehensible velocity, quite close to the cliff's edge, and zoomed straight up past Darius, causing him to yelp in surprise and back up next to the cave entrance. Several hundred feet up, the avian relaxed his wings and let himself fall again, all with considerable agility and grace (which he would not fail to boast about later on). He caught himself again a little higher up than before, and began to spiral upwards, cruising gently on an updraft. Fletcher stretched his arms out beside him so that they lay directly under his wings - his ascent was effortless to the point that he barely had to beat his wings at all. Soft snowflakes danced around his head, falling onto the back of his shirt, and then his outstretched wings.

After gaining considerable altitude, Fletcher pulled his wings in closely for a nosedive. He shot past Darius once again, this time with speed that made him look like nothing more than a golden rush of air, then banked sharply left, then right, then up again. He whooped and cheered himself on as he rose up and fell in a series of loop-the-loops, weaving between drifts, small peaks, and the few trees that actually managed to grow up at this altitude (they looked like nothing more than tall, depressing sticks, he thought to himself).

Darius watched all of this silently from just outside Tau's cave, mouth slightly slack with unconcealed awe. He barely even saw normal birds fly with such speed and finesse, much less a real-life Kipanga. He stared after his newfound... friend? - with an intense sense of longing. Darius always wanted to fly. To go anywhere other than the stupid forest where he had lived his whole life. To feel the wind in his hair. To be free. But no. He was small, disdained, now marginally crippled, and, of course, one hundred percent free of any feathers or anything else that could render him capable of flight. Seeing Fletcher so out there and clearly enjoying himself made Darius feel envious. That, mostly, but also ... happy. Happy to see that at least someone out there could do the things that he couldn't, and also not be an asshole about it like his siblings. He crossed his arms and cracked a kind of subdued smile when Fletcher finally landed softly in front of him, giggling like a child and looking very pleased with his fancy aeronautics.

"So? What did you think?" Fletcher's golden eyes were wide and sparkling, his voice high and filled with laughter.

"It wasn't bad," Darius teased, and then added, "Just kidding. I'm not going to lie - that was one of the most awesome things I've seen in my entire life," after witnessing Fletcher's fallen face. After this compliment though, Darius felt a rush of happiness when the Kipanga's face lit up with pride.

"Really? You liked it that much? I've gotta work on my banking. It's too sharp. A-and my dives are a bit risky, I guess. Or at least that's what Gav tells me," Fletcher started on a self-critiquing, stuttering ramble, spouting flight-related words that Darius didn't really understand the meaning of.

"Just don't get used to it." He smiled softly as he followed the avian back inside the cave. It was getting dark, but he barely noticed.

The thought of reclaiming his bow had also not crossed Darius' mind once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"That wasn't a very long flight, but damn am I exhausted," Fletcher said as he plopped down beside the barely glowing fire, and yawned loudly for an excessive amount of time. He picked up a stick and poked the embers, hoping to get a spark or something to appear and encourage some more flames to flicker into existence. "I think we need more wood."

Darius considered the fire for a minute before saying that he might have an idea of where he could get some more.

"Tau often mentioned that she chose this place to live in because it had its share of secrets. Let me look around." He gingerly picked up the blue, dimly lit bioluminescent lamp and began to look around the walls for rocks or anything that appeared to have been moved recently.

"Ooh - secret passages?" Fletcher asked with a strange mix of genuine excitement and physical weariness. He didn't offer to help look for one, though - he only moved to sit a little closer to the dying embers.

"Something like that," Darius replied, not really listening as he was focused intently on the task at hand. He ran his padded hand over the edges of smooth rocks, avoided grainy ones, and even paused at times to put one of his velvety ears up against the cave wall.

After fifteen minutes or so of searching, the Kulungu stumbled upon something potentially close to what he was searching for. He felt a very gentle movement of air behind a pile of hanging furs that Tau had evidently collected as trophies, rather than to use as clothing or something similar. Darius pushed aside the thickly furred and oddly patterned hides to reveal a gap in the wall. It was barely large enough to fit a Karakali through, if they tried hard enough, and was easily wide enough for Darius to squeeze bye.

"Hey, Fletcher! I found one of those secret passages you were asking about!" he called softly. His voice echoed back to him quietly, but Darius got no response. He must be asleep, he thought, and looked over at the Kipanga. He confirmed his hypothesis - the avian was laying on his side, but at an angle so that he didn't crush his wing beneath himself. His other wing was folded in a way that looked more like a blanket than anything else - it rose and fell with a steady rhythm that could only mean Fletcher was sleeping soundly. Darius smiled to himself, and pushed himself into the gap in the cave wall.

The passage both grew and shrank in size as Darius slowly edged along sideways. His bio-lamp flickered once or twice, but overall gave off a light just bright enough for him to see in front of him without tripping over his own feet. The walls were cold, but dry and smooth, like this passage had been passed through many times, and was created by something that was not just the natural flow of water. After several minutes of this, and having accumulated one or two small scratches and scrapes along the way, the passage finally opened up into a larger room. It wasn't as large as the one back where Fletcher was, but it was still quite spacious. In fact, the room was much bigger in height than anything else. Darius must have been descending without realizing it. The walls were polished to quite a sheen, and a single shaft of dim light from the setting sun outside filtered in from high up. The light fell in a glittering patch of water that flowed slowly from one end of the cavern to the other - a small underground river that had collected here into a pool of sorts. The water was crystal clear, and the blue lights of tiny luminescent crystals shone up from the deepest parts of the pool. This must be where Tau collected the materials for the lamps! Darius thought to himself excitedly.

Still, despite the beauty of the newfound cavern, there was nothing that Darius could actually use. No crates of things, no sticks, no nothing. Well - it was a nice discovery nonetheless. Fletcher would probably like to take a look at the cavern later. In any case, he thought he'd let the avian rest for a while first. Darius took one last look at the cavern before squeezing back into the hole in the wall, and began his steady ascent.

Breathing heavily from the effort, despite not having actually gone that far, Darius finally emerged back into the main cavern. He lifted his eyes and stretched a little, and turned around while saying, "Hey! I didn't find any sticks but there was this really cool cavern with glowy crystals and stuff, so I guess that's not too ba - " and then cut himself abruptly. His eyes widened, first in confusion, then fear, and then puzzled joy. Fletcher was very clearly awake now, most likely due to the fact that his wings were tied behind him, as were his hands, and a small trickle of blood was dripping from his nose. He was up backed up against a wall, pinned there like Darius had been only a day or two before, only this time by a much larger and more aggressive creature - a Karakali.

"Tau?!" Darius exclaimed.

Immediately, both Tau and Fletcher turned their heads to stare at the Kulungu. Tau was easily six and a half feet tall, and very strongly built. Her jaw was very harsh, with a thickset face and narrowed silvery-grey eyes. Very faint wrinkles were beginning to show around her mouth and eyes, but more due to her difficult lifestyle than her age. Her hair was extremely thick and coarse, tied back in a long, messy white braid adorned with some decorative teeth and claws. Two large, rounded ears were pointed straight in Darius' direction, but flicked to the side every so often, unconsciously checking for any sound of danger. Her teeth were bared - thick, slightly yellowed canines that couldn't be hidden even with her mouth closed. Tau was wearing a coat of thick furs and hides, still slightly wet from the snow outside. Darius offhandedly noticed a few sacks made of a similar material in a corner of the cavern that weren't there before - evidently containing things that Tau had collected from her most recent 'trip'. One of the most defining features of Tau, however, was her long, immensely fluffy tail, patterned and colored a warm grey like that of a snow leopard. It was spotted with patches of dark brown and black, and twitched to and fro constantly. Tau's threatening expression softened immediately when she recognized Darius and his voice, but didn't move her extended claws away from Fletcher's throat.

"...Darius? What in the freezing hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home for the fire festival or something?"

Darius laughed nervously. "I, uh, actually may or may not have decided to.... run away? You were the only other person I knew at the time, so I thought I'd come up here and see you."

"How long have you been here? I've been gone for... I'm not even sure how long," Tau asked, concern filling her voice. Her eyes locked onto how Darius was keeping his weight on one leg over the other - something her years as a hunter had made her extremely adept at noticing - and raised an accusing eyebrow at the Kipanga pinned under her iron grip.

"Not that long. A few days, at most."

"I was actually the one that saved his ass," Fletcher choked out, but immediately hushed when Tau fixed him with a gaze cold enough to chill his bones.

"It's true, Tau," Darius confirmed. "Let him go - I'd be dead if it weren't for him."

Tau looked from Kulungu to Kipanga several times before finally removing her claws from Fletcher's throat, and used them to cut his bindings.

"Thank you," Fletcher said in an almost exasperated tone and started massaging his wrists.

"You're welcome. Next time, think twice about nesting in a Karakali's home, Eyas," Tau growled, only this time in a more teasing than aggressive manner.

"Hey, only my sister's allowed to call me that!" Fletcher complained.

"I can call you whatever I want in my home, Eyas," Tau smirked before going over to untie and sort through her sacks.

Darius couldn't help but laugh, and limped over to the dead fire. When Fletcher sat down next to him - much closer than usual, Darius noticed, probably due to Tau's presence - Darius told him about the new cavern he discovered.

"You finally found it, eh? I was wondering when you would," Tau said as she tossed some dry logs onto the fire pit, evidently recently collected, and began to ignite it.

As soon as the fire was roaring and Tau had safely organized and stored away all of her new catches and materials, the three of them sat in a rough circle around the blaze.

After a brief silence, Tau directed a question at Fletcher.

"So, what's a Kipanga doing all the way out here?"

Fletcher shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, but answered anyway.

"Gavina - my sister - and I were looking for a new place to call home. We're nomads, as you know. We've never been this far north before. The forest below looked promising, but it was filled with Kulungu. Uh, no offense, Darius. Anyway, I flew on my own on a scouting mission to see if I could find anywhere in the mountains where my sister and I could hunker down for a while. Instead, I was nearly shot out of the sky by this guy over here, and now here we are."

"I only shot at you because it looked like you were about to pounce on me," Darius said in retaliation.

"Yeah, well, I still saved your life. So there." Fletcher gave him a cocky smile.

"All right, boys - calm down. Doesn't matter what happened then. You're here now. You're my guests, until I either can't care for you anymore, or you decide to leave. What did you say your name was again, bird?"

"...Fletcher."

"Alright, 'Fletcher'. That's a rather ironic name for an avian, isn't it?"

Fletcher looked a little confused, and said nothing.

Tau coughed, and then turned her attention to Darius.

"Anyway! On to the next thing. You, young fawn, need that leg set. Ah - don't try to protest. It won't work."

Darius had opened his mouth to object, but shut it again.

"That's what I said! I offered to set it for him, but he refused," Fletcher said triumphantly.

"Fine," Darius gave in. "I trust Tau more with medical stuff anyway."

Fletcher looked slightly betrayed, given that he actually had saved his life but just huffed and began to comb through his feathers.

Tau moved over to Darius' side, and knelt down beside him.

"Sorry, bud, but this has to be done. It's going to be more painful now than it would have been two days ago because you've let it sit like this for this long, but better late than never."

Darius looked away as Tau slowly rolled up his trouser leg - at the wall, at the ceiling, at the fire, anywhere but his leg, crisscrossed with old, knotted burn scars. He caught Fletcher's eyes quickly - they had widened a little with a look of pity - and immediately looked away again.

"On three," Tau said.

"One... TWO" she said, and set his leg back in place before reaching 'three'. Darius screeched, but the pain of that was still not as bad as that of the memories that resurfaced after seeing the scars he had hidden for so long.

After breathing heavily for a few minutes, Darius looked at Tau.

"That... wasn't on three," he said.

Tau laughed a little.

"Works better that way, though, you've gotta admit," she said.

Fletcher chuckled, and looked over at Darius, who refused to meet his gaze again.

"...Alright, well, I'm going to get some shut-eye now. You boys can stay here or go to the other cavern if you like." She yawned and stretched, much like the feline that she shared many physical traits with, before heading over to one corner of the cavern. She curled up silently, head cushioned by her arms, tail coming up and around to circle her body. It twitched a few times before her breathing became steady.

Darius and Fletcher said nothing, and lay on opposite sides of the now roaring fire. The faint crackling soon made Fletcher doze off, but it was a long time later until the flames died down once more and Darius finally closed his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

End of Chapter 5.


End file.
